Читать книгу A Taste of Temptation - Cat Schield - Страница 11

Three

With the Chef Cole problem handled for the time being and her mother safely ensconced in the day spa, Harper was able to steal a few minutes to herself to take stock of the day. Thank heavens they weren’t all like this.

Unable to imagine what her mother had done to open herself up to blackmail, Harper paced her hotel, trying to find comfort in achievement. The ceilings throughout had been painted to represent different aspects of the sky her hotel was named for. In the lobby, it was a pale midday blue dotted with clouds. Lighting changed from dawn to dusk to match what was happening outside. The casino ceiling was a midnight indigo sparkling with thousands of pinpoint lights configured like the star patterns above Las Vegas.

It was a simple concept, beautifully rendered. She was proud of all she’d accomplished. But today, there was no joy to be found in surveying her domain. Harper glanced at her watch. Two hours to kill. With her ability to concentrate shot and no meetings or crisis pending, she considered returning to her suite and running on her treadmill. Or she could go talk to Scarlett.

Five years ago when her grandfather had come to her with news that she had two half sisters, she’d been angry, miserable and excited. She’d been eleven when she’d first learned her father regularly cheated on his wife, but until five years ago, she’d had no idea his extramarital wandering had messed up more lives than just hers and her mother’s.

A quick walk through the skyways that connected the three Fontaine hotels brought Harper to Fontaine Richesse, Scarlett’s hotel. She sought out her sister in the casino. Spotting Scarlett was easy. She radiated sex appeal and charisma in her emerald-green flapper costume, her long brown hair tucked beneath a twenties-style, shingle bob wig with bangs.

The rest of the casino staff was dressed like something out of a movie from the forties and fifties: men in elegant tuxedos and suits or military uniforms from the Second World War, women in evening gowns or stylish dresses.

Harper had thought the whole idea of a Golden Age of Hollywood night was crazy. But she’d underestimated her sister’s brilliance. The casino was packed. Many of those playing the machines or lining the tables were also dressed in costume. There were prizes awarded for best outfit, and casino cash was given to anyone who guessed what particular movie the dealers or waitresses were dressed from.

Scarlett wore a delighted grin as the man who’d approached her guessed her costume.

“Cyd Charrise, Singin’ In The Rain?”

“That’s right.” She handed him a card he could trade in for money to gamble with. As he walked off, she spotted Harper. “What a surprise.”

“You look amazing,” Harper said, admiring the dress and matching green satin pumps. “Is it new?”

“First time I’ve worn it.” She struck a pose. “I think Laurie outdid herself.” Scarlett had been friends with the Hollywood costume designer for years and used her for every costume in the casino.

“I would agree.”

When she’d first met Scarlett, Harper hadn’t given the former child actress much credit. She couldn’t imagine what her grandfather had been thinking when he’d concocted the contest between his three granddaughters. What could someone with Scarlett’s background know about running a multibillion-dollar hotel much less a corporation the size of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts? Five years later, Harper was a huge fan of Scarlett’s creativity and authenticity. She knew exactly who she was and had played directly to her strengths.

“Do you have time for a drink?” Harper asked, instantly seeing her request had startled Scarlett.

Harper was the family workaholic. Rarely did she sit down in the evenings when the casino was busiest, much less take time out to eat or drink.

“For you, always.” They found a table in a quiet corner of the lobby bar. Scarlett ordered two glasses of cabernet and made small talk until the drinks arrived. “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as Harper had taken a sip of wine.

“What makes you think...?” She could see Scarlett wasn’t fooled. “I don’t want you to assume that I’m only here because I needed help.”

“I don’t care why you’re here.” Scarlett gave her a lopsided smile. “And I’m glad Violet is out of town with JT. Otherwise, I know you’d have gone to her first.”

“That’s unfair.” But probably true. As much as Harper loved her half sister, she wasn’t always comfortable with Scarlett.

In so many ways, they were opposites. Scarlett was gorgeous, flamboyant and utterly fearless when it came to her relationships. Hadn’t she tackled Logan Wolfe and turned the tetchy security expert into a big purring lion? She’d managed to do the same thing with Harper. Wariness had become loyalty, something Harper gave rarely and not without reservation. But Scarlett had won her over for the most part.

“Okay, there is something wrong.” Harper paused, knowing Scarlett deserved more. “But you aren’t right about how I’d go to Violet instead of you. If she was here, I’d have come to both of you with this.”

“Must be serious.” Scarlett’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Do you need some advice about Ashton Croft? I heard he’s back in town.”

“Nothing like that.”

“I suggest you sleep with him.”

“What?” Harper cursed the sudden heat in her cheeks. “I’m not going to sleep with him. Our relationship is strictly professional.”

“You should reconsider that. I know you have a thing for him. And he looks like he’d be a riot in bed.”

Harper needed Scarlett to get off that particular subject. “My mother is being blackmailed.”

All mischief went out of Scarlett. She paled. “Blackmailed? Why?”

“I don’t know. She won’t tell me.”

“Does she know who is doing it?”

Harper shook her head. “It’s all so crazy. My mother. The perfect Penelope Fontaine. I can’t imagine her doing anything wrong much less anything scandalous enough to invite blackmail.”

“How did you find out?”

“She came here needing to borrow money.”

“How much?”

“Three hundred and fifty thousand.”

Scarlett gasped. “That’s a lot.”

“I keep wondering what she’s done. It must be something truly awful for them to be asking that much.”

“From what you’ve told me,” Scarlett began, “your mother isn’t great at considering the value of something before she spends. Is she sure what happened is worth that much money?”

“It’s hard to say with my mother. She’s so big on keeping her reputation unsullied, it might be something as simple as a bump and run.” But Harper couldn’t picture her mother having a minor accident much less fleeing the scene of one.

“Could she have cheated on her taxes?”

“Impossible. Grandfather handles all her finances.” Penelope’s lack of financial smarts was what had caused Grandfather to put her on an allowance and hire a money manager to pay the bills.

“I don’t suppose she wants to call the police.” Scarlett framed the question as if she already knew the answer.

“She won’t do that,” Harper said. “The blackmailer will make her secret public.”

“Do you need help coming up with the cash? I have some money set aside.”

Her sister’s offer came so fast Harper doubted Scarlett considered the magnitude of the gesture. She was humbled by her sister’s affection. “Thanks, but I didn’t come here for that.”

“Then why?”

“I thought talking with you would put me in a calmer frame of mind before I have dinner with my mother.”

“She’s here?”

“Showed up this afternoon out of the blue.”

Harper had never spoken directly about how she and Penelope got along, but both her sisters knew that Harper’s mother had left her daughter behind in New York City and moved to Florida. It wasn’t a stretch to deduce that things between mother and daughter weren’t good. But if anyone understood that family could produce the most complicated relationships, it would be Harper and Scarlett.

“Why don’t I talk with Logan,” Scarlett suggested. “Maybe there’s something he or Lucas can do.”

“I don’t know if anyone can help at this point.”

“Are you kidding? Logan and his brother are security experts. They should be able to figure out who’s blackmailing your mom without breaking a sweat. If not before the blackmail is paid, then I know they can track where the money goes.”

Harper was suddenly feeling a whole lot better. Impulsively, she hugged Scarlett. “I don’t know what I would do without you and Violet.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I wasn’t always sure you liked having us in your life.”

Scarlett’s admission twisted Harper’s stomach into knots of regret. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way. In the beginning it wasn’t easy embracing you as sisters. I’d been alone my whole life and hadn’t exactly been smothered with love by my parents. I didn’t really understand what it meant to be family.”

“I hope that’s changed.”

“It has. You and Violet are the most important people in my life along with Grandfather.” Seeing the tears that filled Scarlett’s beautiful green eyes, Harper wished she’d made this confession long ago. “I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise. I’ve been so focused on getting Fontaine Ciel built and running that I haven’t been a very good sister.”

Scarlett waved the apology away and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. Delight filled her voice as she said, “You didn’t need to say anything. We knew how you felt.”

Harper made a resolution to be more open with her sisters going forward. It wouldn’t be easy. She’d spent her whole life bottling up her feelings. Her mother wasn’t demonstrative and her father’s rare appearances in her life hadn’t been filled with warm moments. In school she’d been a leader and her habit of ruling by persuasion and occasional ruthlessness hadn’t won her the love of the majority of her classmates. But it hadn’t mattered as long as they followed her. Or so she’d told herself.

“Let me call Logan and see what he suggests we do.”

“I’m sure he’s not going to want you to do anything,” Harper said with a faint smile.

“Since when has that stopped me?”

Scarlett had given her fiancé a lot to worry about after inheriting some files from Tiberius Stone, Violet’s surrogate father. The casino owner had been murdered by a local councilman who’d been embezzling campaign contributions. Tiberius had accumulated a storage unit full of people’s secrets including his brother-in-law, a man who’d stolen the identity of Preston Rhodes, a wealthy orphan from California. Violet had gone to Miami intent on bringing him to justice in order to help her husband take back his family’s company.

“It’s rolling to voice mail,” Scarlett said. After leaving Logan a brief summary of the situation, she hung up. “It won’t take him long to call me back. Do you want to wait?”

About to say yes, Harper suddenly remembered she still had Ashton’s go bag. “Can’t. I have to see a man about a bag.”

Scarlett cocked her head in puzzlement, but nodded. “As soon as I hear from Logan, I’ll call you. In the meantime, can you stall your mother?”

“I can try.”

Leaving Scarlett, Harper made her way back to the Fontaine Ciel’s executive floor. Mary had gone for the day, locking Harper’s office before she left. Harper half expected Ashton to have persuaded the personal assistant to give him his bag, but to her surprise, either Mary had resisted the celebrity chef’s charm or Ashton had stuck to his part of the bargain.

Either way, she grabbed the bag and shot a quick text to let him know the luggage would be waiting for him at Batouri. But when she got there, she was surprised to find Ashton sitting at the corner table where his bag had sat earlier.

* * *

When the door to the restaurant opened, Ashton was nursing a tumbler of ten-year-old Scotch. It was his third. The first two had gone down fast and smooth. He didn’t think he should continue at that pace or his dinner with Cole might not go the way Harper wanted.

That she spotted him so fast made him smile. She felt it, too. This irresistible pull between them. How had he ignored it until now? Oh, she was good at hiding it. And he hadn’t exactly given her any reason to feel more than irritation toward him. He wanted to strip her layers of professionalism away and get to the firecracker below. How hot would the fire burn? And for how long? With fireworks, the thrill was in those seconds of exhilarating danger. The breathtaking waterfall of light. The big boom that lingered in the chest even after the sound faded.

Still, it might be worth sacrificing her goodwill to experience the rush.

“What brings you here?” He sipped the Scotch, felt the burn in his chest.

“I’m returning your go bag.”

He’d been so focused on Harper he hadn’t even noticed that she was towing his bag along.

You’re slipping.

In the places he traveled, being distracted for even a moment could be trouble.

“The deal isn’t done with Cole yet,” he reminded her. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it hostage for a bit longer?” Maybe take it back to her suite. “I could pick it up later.”

She parked the bag beside the booth. “I’ve lost my taste for blackmail in the past few hours.” Her gaze flicked to the glass and then to his mouth.

His heart tapped unsteadily against his ribs. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Was it the alcohol that was making him light-headed or the way she was staring at him as if she wondered what he’d taste like? She reached for his glass, and he figured she was going to chastise him for drinking up the restaurant’s stock. Instead, she lifted the tumbler to her lips and tossed back the last ounce of Scotch. He expected her to come up coughing as the strong liquor hit her throat. Instead, she licked her lips and smiled, her eyes thoughtful and distant.

“My grandfather loves Scotch.” She set the glass back on the table and turned to go.

“I’m a very good listener.” Ashton claimed few virtues. Giving a speaker his full attention was one. But would she trust him to share what was going on?

Harper hesitated before facing him once more. “My mother came into town unexpectedly.”

Ashton relaxed, unaware until his lungs started working again that he’d been holding his breath. “I noticed the air between you two wasn’t particularly cheerful.”

“Do you have a good relationship with your parents?”

He shook his head, the twinge in his gut barely noticeable. “I left home at fifteen and never looked back.”

“I’ve read everything ever written about you and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t part of your history.”

He knew better than to be flattered. “It’s a story for another day. We’re talking about you.”

Her gaze was steady on his for several seconds. “My mother moved to Florida when I was eleven, leaving me in New York with my father who was rarely home. At the time I hated her for not being around, but as I grew up, I realized that being away from her criticism gave me the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them without being afraid she’d make me feel worse.”

“I’m not sure many people would be as unaffected by their mother’s abandonment as you are.”

Harper gave him a wry smile. “Don’t for a second think I’m unaffected. I’m just realistic. My mother didn’t abandon me. She fled a situation she’d didn’t like. Penelope isn’t someone who stands and fights when she can run away and go shopping.” Harper shrugged, but she was far from sounding nonchalant. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little more bothered than I let on.”

“It’s nice to hear you admit that.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you and I haven’t been able to figure out why.”

“You like me?” Her breathless laugh wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.

“Very much,” he admitted, more than a little disturbed by the way her delighted smile transformed her into a stunning, vivacious woman.

“After the way I’ve hounded you these past nine months?” She shook her head, and the career woman took over once more. “I think you’re just trying to charm me. If this is your way of changing my mind about Chef Cole, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“So suspicious,” he taunted. “That’s not it at all. I’m starting to come around to your opinion about Cole. As for the way you’ve acted these past few months, I get it. This hotel is important to you. Batouri will make a statement and depending on how it does, that statement will be good or bad. I’d be a hypocrite to criticize you for doing whatever it took to make sure Batouri is a complete success.”

“That’s awfully accommodating of you.”

Rub me the right way and I can be very accommodating.

But that’s the sort of comeback she’d expect. “Does your mother visit you in Las Vegas often?”

“Never. She hates it here.”

“Must be important for her to show up then.”

“She needs my help. Which is different. She usually takes her problems to my grandfather because he’s a man and taking care of women is what men do.”

“That sounds very traditional minded.”

“It goes against everything I believe in. I’m a modern career girl.” A trace of self-mockery put a lilt in her voice. “She disapproves of my choices. Thinks I should have married a tycoon like my grandfather and dazzled New York society on his arm.”

“That seems like a waste of your intelligence and drive.”

“It’s hard being a disappointment.”

“I agree.” This they shared. No matter how much either of them accomplished, they weren’t living up to their parents’ perception of success. “It spoils what you’ve achieved, doesn’t it.”

She looked surprised by his insight. Her gaze became keen as it rested on him. “It does.”

He lifted the bottle of Scotch. “Do you want another drink?” He was dying to watch her swallow another glass. And then lick her lips again. There’d been something so decadent, so wickedly un-Harper-like about the deed.

“I should get back to work.”

“See you tomorrow night.”

“Text me when Chef Cole agrees to come work for you.” She started to leave, but then paused. “Thanks for listening.”

He suspected voicing her gratitude hadn’t come easily. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

Shaking her head in exasperation, Harper spun away and headed toward the exit, her stride purposeful. Whatever sharing she’d done, it was now over. Ashton was left with an increased appreciation for Harper Fontaine.

These past few months he’d assumed her arrogance was a natural byproduct of her family’s money and connections, that life was a breeze for her. He’d been as guilty of stereotyping as his critics often were. To be fair, her confidence had always been dent-free.

Now he realized there were a few pinholes in her armor.

And they had more in common than he’d have ever guessed.

* * *

Harper pushed lettuce around on her plate, her appetite deadened by the smell of cigarette smoke. The suite would have to be deep cleaned before any guests could be booked in here. Over dinner, her mother had refused to speak about the blackmail. Harper’s impatience was growing with each minute that ticked by. She set down her fork. It clattered on the china. The discordant sound startled her mother.

“We have to talk about why you’re here.”

“I don’t want to.”

“If you expect me to give you three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I’m going to need to know why you’re being blackmailed.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“That’s a relief,” Harper muttered. She left the table, needing activity to think. As she crossed the room, a dozen ideas sprang into her mind. She picked the most likely one and turned to confront her mother. “You stole something.”

“I’m not a thief.” Penelope stubbed out her cigarette and reached for another, but Harper beat her to the package.

“No more smoking.”

Her mother glared at her. “You are trying to provoke me into telling you something you’re not ready to hear.”